


Blossom

by emmiemiapandy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, Iwaizumi as an angry child, Kids and then teens, Lots of family problems, M/M, Oikawa as a shy child, Slow Burn, Some angst, a bit of an AU, jk lots of angst, lots of bugs, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 08:24:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13566654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmiemiapandy/pseuds/emmiemiapandy
Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi have been friends for most of their life. Through thick and thin, they have always been there for one another. What if their relationship starts to change? When Iwaizumi starts developing feelings, he is scared that it will ruin the friendship they have together. Will everything change, or will feelings be forgotten?





	Blossom

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo this is my first fic I'm posting. Super new to this, so I'd appreciate comments on what you think! I'm totally open to criticism so if you have any suggestions let me know :P I hope you guys enjoy this!!

I woke up to the crisp scent of a summer morning and couldn’t help but feel excitement. Today was the day I was going to catch something really cool! I blindly slap my hand over my bedside table and finally grasped what I was looking for; it was my insect encyclopedia. Instead of fairy tale bedtime stories, for as long as I could remember I had my mom read me this book. One day I want to find everything in the book! 

I looked at the plain cover in wonder for a few moments before I slipped through the well-worn pages. I could feel my eyes sparkling as my gaze flit from one picture to the next. They were all so cool! From the praying mantis to the Giant Silkworm Moth— they enchanted me.

“Hajime! Breakfast!” I heard my mom call from downstairs.

My wonder-filled stare was broken as I carefully placed the encyclopedia back on my bedside table. After giving it a loving pat, I rolled off of my bed and opened my closet. I blindly grabbed a tank-top and a pair of shorts, and dressed myself quickly. I looked at the mirror in my room and grinned at my spikey haired reflection. I still had a band-aid on my cheek from where I slipped and fell last week. 

“Hajime!” my mom called once again, louder than before. 

“Coming mom!” I yelled back as I started racing down the stairs. 

My mom was in the kitchen and she made pancakes! My mouth watered at the thought of the sweet buttery taste. I was about to grasp a plate, when my mom pulled it out of my reach.

“You can have these on one condition~,” she spoke in a singsong voice as she waved one of her finger around in front of my face. My face scrunched up in distrust and I lightly scowled at her. 

“Oh, come on,” my mom sighed exasperated. Most likely remembering the same event that I was. Last time she had me do something, it was babysitting an old neighbors’ baby. She broke my bug net and slobbered all over my favorite books. They moved away not that long ago, I think they went to a different country. I wonder if there are any different bugs there that I can’t find here. 

“Hajime we are just going to go and see the new neighbors,” enclosed my mom with a small smile.

I contemplated the pros and cons and felt it was worth it, if I got to eat those pancakes that my mom was holding. “Okay I’ll go,” I answered quickly and I grabbed the pancakes from my mom’s hand. 

“I’m going to up to your room to set out some nice clothes. Make sure to change after you finish eating,” my mom chirped as she sped up the stairs.

Meanwhile, I grumbled into my pancakes, drowning them in a sickly-sweet syrup. Why did I have to change clothes? I looked down at myself and didn’t see anything wrong. Why did I have to put up a persona when meeting new people? It’s not like they won’t see what I’m like every day. We’re going to be neighbors after all. 

Before I knew it, my pancakes were gone and I was trudging up the stairs with a gait similar to a zombie. Scuffing the carpet that adorned the top of the stairs I made the short trip over to my room. My door, covered in stickers that I’ve collected, was left ajar from when I left it this morning. 

I huffed as I threw off the clothes that I had just put on. Not even a ten seconds later I found myself grasping my discarded clothes and placing them neatly back in my closet. No use getting upset, it’s only a day. Hopefully this meeting won’t last long and I can go back to trying to find a cool new bug.

I finally forced my gaze to the clothes that my mom picked out for me. It didn’t take long for me to deduce that they were gross. How am I supposed to be comfortable in pants and a button-up, long-sleeved shirt? Not to mention some fancy shoes that I can’t even remember ever wearing. 

I groan all the way through dressing myself, hoping my mom hears and takes pity on me. She either didn’t hear or just ignored me because she kept bustling about downstairs. Before I knew it, there were no more articles of clothing to put on. 

I decided to look at myself in the mirror before I went downstairs and snorted in disgust. The button-up was clinging to my skin uncomfortably and the dark jeans scratched my legs raw. I felt like one of those dogs they put in outfits; the ones that are so visibly uncomfortable that it’s almost funny to watch. Well, this time I’m certainly not laughing. My arms stood out at an angle similar to that of a penguin’s flippers, my legs were oddly spread to stop the fabric from grating on my skin, and my feet wouldn’t fully touch the ground because the shoes were starting to form blisters.

One day, it’s only one day. I chanted in my head as I finally wrenched the door open and hopped down the stairs. 

As soon as my mom saw me she started cooing, “Hajime! You’re so handsome! Oh, you look so grown up!” She wrapped me in her warm embrace and lovingly caressed my spiky hair. “If only I could tame that hair of yours,” she pondered.

I yelped and put some distance between us, not wanting to spend anymore time on my appearance. 

“Can’t we just go,” I pleaded tugging on my mom’s arm. Ready to get this day over with.

“Just one second, I want to bring over something.” she remembered as she detached from my hold on her arm. 

I impatiently crossed my arms over my chest and started tapping my foot to a flimsy beat that I conjured in my head. My keen ears twitched as I heard my mom bustle around in the kitchen, I wonder what she made, hopefully she will give me some. Saliva poured into my mouth as I thought about the delicious treats my mom has made previously. The warm, gooey inner texture of brownies just taken out of the oven, infected by consciousness. Reluctantly, I swallowed my hunger for my mom’s cooking. Just as I did my mom entered my line of sight with a plastic container around the size of a goliath frog. My friend, that moved away a year ago, had a brother that had one. They are super cool, but not as cool as insects. 

In the container, the smell of my mom’s famous brownies overtook my senses. I could barely refrain myself from taking the container and eating all the brownies that are inside. Unaware of my internal conflict, my mom began to mumble to herself, “Oh, I hope they don’t have any allergies. They could also be terribly busy. I mean they haven’t even settled-”

I quickly cut her off by tugging on her flower-patterned blouse, “Mom, if we aren’t going, can I have the brownies?” 

That sure got her back on track because the next thing I knew she was halfway out the door calling, “Hurry up Hajime!” She sure recovered fast, I thought with a mental grumble.

My mom held open the door for me with the container of brownies cradled to her hip like it was a toddler. Slowly I walked over scuffing my new shoes on the floor. “Hurry up, and don’t ruin your new shoes,” my mom scolded me and I increased my pace. 

“Don’t forget to lock the door,” I supplied as I walked onto the sidewalk in front of our house. Behind me I could hear my mom fumble with her keys and groan when she accidently tried to insert the wrong one. 

“Okay, let’s go,” she declared as she put her hand on the small of my back to guide me forward. I had no choice but to keep up with her brisk pace towards our new neighbors house. Suddenly, my mom moved her hand, from my back, into my hand as she began to cross the street. I’m not a little kid, I pouted silently in my head. My thoughts must have shone on my face because my mom teased with a loving gaze, “You're always going to be my little baby.” 

I scowled but it quickly unfurrowed when she tenderly carded her hand through my hair. Before my mind could even react, I was pushing my head farther into the palm of her hand. My gaze shifted to my mom, but she had no reaction except to keep patting my hair.  
At a time like this I wish I could purr. Then she would know how much I enjoy these platonic touches. I don’t show it often— in fact, I commonly don a scowl on my face. Nevertheless I yearn for affection, but I don’t show it often. I’m ashamed that I’m still dependent on my mom, whereas the other kids my age are quick to leave their parents behind. Maybe it’s because my mom got divorced early on and it was just the two of us. Whatever the case, I get teased about it all the time from the other kids in my class. It was most likely meant to be harmless, but it struck a chord inside of me. 

Before I knew it, the caress of my mom’s hand was gone and we were standing in front of a familiar door— the door of our new neighbor’s house. “Go on Hajime, knock on the door,” my mom prodded. 

She must have noticed my sudden streak of independence since starting school earlier in the year. My heart gave a painful squeeze and I almost grasped my chest. In this moment I truly realized: my mom loves me. She loves me so much that she went out of her way to do small things; like having me knock on the door so I could feel more grown up. It must be painful for her distancing herself so I would feel more comfortable. I glanced at her and she gave me a smile so genuine that I had to look away; it was a smile of pure, unaltered emotion. In this moment I also decided to stop caring what my classmates said, as best as I could anyway.

I lifted my trembling hand and rapped my knuckles firmly on the surface of the door. While taking a few steps back, I heard a few shouts from within and the thump of something heavy hitting the ground.

The door creaked open and a woman appeared before us. She looked tired but still gave us a large smile that was so genuine, it practically blinded me; it was eerily similar to the one my mom gave me not even a minute before. The first thought that ran through my head was, she was pretty. Her dark brown hair was in a haphazardly made bun and her rich blue eyes shown with fatigue. That may not sound too appealing, but she had a natural charm that glowed and brought people in like a moth to a flame. She didn't look like a mess; in fact, she looked as if she just jumped out from one of those runway shows my mom watched every now and then. Except, those girls had too many artificial colors on their face and ruffles donning their clothes. Our new neighbor was like Aladdin—a diamond in the rough. I barely could hold in my giggles; our neighbor was straight out of a disney movie! 

"What can I do for you?" she asked, casually leaning against her door frame. Every action she made seemed to be so natural, it was intriguing. How could someone make even the most mundane things seem special? 

"We just came to welcome you to the neighborhood. I'm Iwaizumi Natsuko and this is my son Iwaizumi Hajime. We live across the street and then down a few houses. See! It's that one right there, with green paint," my mom paused to swivel around and point towards the general direction of our home before continuing, "If you need any help unpacking we are glad to help," my mom offered, gripping my shoulder with her hand. 

“Oh! I almost forgot I baked these brownies for you and your family. Think of it as a welcome to the neighborhood. I know pies are usually traditional but I’m not the best at making pies-” I quickly cut my mom off, by gripping the hand that was gripping my shoulder, before she could ramble too much. She gave a sheepish smile and held out the container filled with mouth-watering brownies to our new neighbor.

“Thank you so much!” our new neighbor thanked with a charming smile as she grasped the container. “My name’s Oikawa Sora and I hope you don’t mind if I take up your offer on helping to unpack. The kids just couldn’t seem to let go of anything, so we came here with so many boxes that I was surprised they all fit inside the house.” she gave an embarrassed laugh before continuing, “I hope you don’t feel obligated to help now. If you’re busy or have somewhere to go, I completely understand-” I stopped listening after I figured out she was rambling. Maybe that’s a thing all girls do? The girls in my class seem to talk a lot so maybe it’s not just exclusive to my mom. Then again, the boys in my class talk a lot too. I guess, it’s just a thing other people do. I couldn’t ever see myself rambling, but that’s probably because I don’t talk enough; that’s what my mother always tells me. She goes on and on about how many words you’re suppose to say each day, but I bet if there was a limit to how many words people could say in a day, she would constantly go over it. 

I tuned back into the conversation just as my mom questioned, “You ready to help Hajime?” For a moment I let myself gaze longingly at the forest of trees a few blocks away, tomorrow, I told myself sorrowfully. While mourning my freedom, I managed to grumble an affirmative reply. 

My mom then guided me into our neighbor's house. It looked completely different from what I remembered. Gone were the tacky, modern paintings that dotted the walls like spots on a ladybug. In their place were crayon-scribbled masterpieces and smiling family pictures. I used to dread entering this house, but with the absence of loud, bratty kids and spoiling parents, it wasn’t so bad. 

“Kids! Come here and meet our neighbors!” Ms. Sora shouted as she closed the door we just entered through. I wonder if her kids are as thoughtless as the last occupants. No, they couldn’t be, Ms. Sora was too nice to have bad children. I forced my mind to stop thinking and focused on politely greeting whoever her kids are. 

I heard the smack of baren feet hitting the floor and a girl, who was by far older than me, appeared. She was wearing flowy shorts and a loose t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Unlike her mother, she opted for a ponytail rather than knotting her hair atop of her head. She looked carefree and gifted me a smile when she spotted me. 

“This is my daughter, Yoshiko. Yoshiko, this is the Iwaizumi family— our new neighbors. They are going to help us move in.” Ms. Sora explained. 

“It’s nice to meet you!” Yoshiko chirped radiating happiness. She seemed like the type of person that always had a smile on her face. Unlike me with my permanent scowl that, no matter how many hours I spent in front of the mirror practicing, never seemed to go away. 

“Where’s Tooru?” Ms. Sora questioned her daughter.

Yoshiko looked confused for a moment before replying, “He said he would be right down. He was right behind me!” She turned into a full circle similar to a dog chasing after it’s tail. 

“I’m right here.” a quiet voice cut through the confusion of the absent Tooru. I turned on my heel and caught sight of a boy my age, at least I think he was. He was really small, so maybe he was younger. He acted small; he was hiding behind the doorway, so I could only see half of his face and puffy brown hair. This must have been Tooru. 

My mom pushed my shoulder lightly and when I turned a scowl on her all she did was tilt her head towards the boy— Tooru. I almost groaned as I caught onto what she was telling me to do. Sure, I wasn't a social kid, but my mom didn't have to shove me towards every potential friend. I sighed and forced my scowl to unfurrow and put on a semi-pleasant expression. 

It was the least I could do, considering all stress I put my mom through. I know she was worried about me, I never really talked to those my age outside of school. I just didn’t fit with most of the kids at school. It didn’t help that my permanent scowl chased away all my potential friends.

I steeled my nerves and all but stomped up to our shy neighbor that was still semi-hidden by the doorframe. I roughly jerked my hand out and grumbled, “My name’s Iwaizumi Hajime, it’s nice to meet you.”

To my surprise, he grasped my hand and fully came into sight whispering one word, “Tooru.”

Ms. Sora loudly clapped her hands together and Tooru quickly retracted his hand from mine. “Now that we are all acquainted we can start getting some unpacking done! Afterwards we can all have some of the brownies Natsuko brought us,” Ms. Sora said enthusiastically.

I mainly spent the time helping Tooru with his room. All his stuff had a space theme to it and in one of the boxes I found some glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars. Before I knew it I was waving goodbye with my mom’s hand lightly grasping my shoulder and a stomach stuffed to the brim with brownies.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 preview: Development of their relationship. They start to really become friends in the next chapter.


End file.
